th Special 20 Anniversary Issue Journal of Buddhist Ethics ISSN 1076-9005 http://blogs.dickinson.edu/buddhistethics/ Volume 20, 2013 Impermanence, Anattā, and the Stability of Egocentrism; or, How Ethically Unstable Is Egocentrism? Michael G. Barnhart Kingsborough Community College/CUNY Copyright Notice: Digital copies of this work may be made and distributed provided no change is made and no alteration is made to the content. Re- production in any other format, with the exception of a single copy for pri- vate study, requires the written permission of the author. All enquiries to: [email protected]. Impermanence, Anattā, and the Stability of Egocentrism; or, How Ethically Unstable Is Egocentrism? Michael G. Barnhart1 Abstract Egocentrism has always been viewed as profoundly uneth- ical, and thus a reason against ethical egoism. This paper examines the arguments for such claims and finds them somewhat wanting. It then considers the positions that egocentrism is psychologically untenable and that it is philosophically unstable. Though it appears true that ego- centrism is a psychologically unappealing position for many, it isn’t universally so and may be adaptable to some dystopian situations. However, the claim that it is philo- sophically unstable may be more promising, and the pa- per turns to Owen Flanagan’s Buddhist-inspired discus- sion of the issue in his book The Bodhisattva’s Brain. Flana- gan argues that the notion of anattā offers an important reason for not taking oneself seriously and thus fatally undermines the meaningfulness of privileging one’s own 1 Kingsborough Community College of the City University of New York. E-mail: Mi- [email protected]. 593 Journal of Buddhist Ethics interests or concerns over others. The paper examines this reasoning, but concludes that Flanagan’s interpreta- tion of anattā may be too weak to support his refutation of egocentrism. The paper concludes by suggesting a more extreme interpretation of anattā that Flanagan rejects and argues that it might both do the job and better resist phil- osophical criticism than its weaker cousin. Ever since the beginning of philosophical time, egoism or egocentrism has suffered a bad reputation. That is not to say it has lacked defenders, but the bulk of opinion has consistently been against it. A number of strategies have been employed to discredit it, but perhaps the most common is to argue that it precludes ethical conduct. Thus, the egoist is presented with the following rather unattractive option: either he can be egocentric or he can be ethical, but he cannot be both. Of course, noth- ing prevents one from opting for egoism over morality, but I have often wondered whether the egoist must concede morality in the first place. Might the question, “Can one be ethical and yet solely preoccupied with self concerns?” be an open one? Opting for egoism over morality raises the common “Intro to Eth- ics” question: “Why be ethical at all?” The answer typically involves an inquiry into human nature, the “self” in a general sense, and the de- mands of social living. Such inquiry usually concludes that it is irrational not to be in some way other-regarding. This is, one cannot plausibly be egocentric without caring about the good itself, a flourishing life, uni- versal suffering, the demands of social role-playing, or the mysteries of Dharma. Thus, one cannot be said to be good, virtuous, caring, or dutiful unless one has concerns that go beyond the self and extend to others. But is this so? Or is it that we simply assume that ethics is unselfish and that these concerns of ethics are matters that are always other- Barnhart, Impermanence, Anattā, and the Stability of Egocentrism 594 regarding? In other words, why can’t someone be good, virtuous, caring, or dutiful and pre-occupied with himself? I well imagine that one could be ethical and care about more than oneself. But must one? To see what I mean, consider the views of a philosopher who ac- cepts the possibility that egoism can be ethical, or that egoistic ethics can exist, J. L. Mackie. In his book Ethics: Inventing Right and Wrong, Mackie argues that there can be a perfectly good sense in which egoism is ethi- cal: a “variety of egoism which says that everyone should seek (exclu- sively or primarily) his own happiness” (84). Ethical egoism, then, is a form of universalization. That is, “proper names and indexical terms, as constants, play no essential part” (84). Obviously, if they did, there would be nothing at all universal about the rule, which means it would not be a rule in the sense of being “committed to taking the same view about any other relevantly similar action” (83). Further, Mackie explicitly claims that “Moral judgments are universalizable” (83). By contrast, I’m asking whether that is so. Can the egoist who reasons using statements where proper names and indexicals figure as constants be moral or ethical? Of course, Mackie thinks not. The reason seems to be that we cannot think of morality (or ethics) as an institution without “rules or principles of action” that guide the actions or behavior of those within the institution (80). And without being an institution, it seems, morality cannot be pre- scriptive or binding. Because a rule requires some level of generality or universality, proper names cannot play an “essential part.” But does mo- rality or ethics have to be an “institution,” or does this assumption ra- ther bias the issue that I am trying to raise? An institution is necessarily interpersonal, but the question I am raising challenges that. Must, in a prescriptive sense, one be institutional? Mackie doesn’t think so as a matter of “general logic” (cf. 80ff). Such subjective considerations cannot count, in his view, as moral or ethical at all. 595 Journal of Buddhist Ethics One might ask exactly what I mean by “morality" or “ethics” when I ask the question. Is there any way for me to use these words meaningfully and avoid entailing an interpersonal aspect? Mackie is not alone in thinking that I cannot. Bernard Williams also argues in his clas- sic Ethics and the Limits of Philosophy that the question “How ought one to live?” is “the best place for moral philosophy to start” and that this question “naturally leads us out of the concerns of the ego altogether” (4). Obviously, there is a difference between the best place and the only place, and he never undertakes to refute the possibility of the question I am asking. But one might still wonder whether Williams is right. In answer, consider the possibility that one could take himself to be entitled not to give a whiff of concern for the fate of others. One need not be like Hume’s imaginary monster who prefers the destruction of the entire world to minor personal injury. One need not prefer anything rel- ative to others. One can merely measure the worth of what he does in terms of considerations that bear exclusively on himself. That there are some, I take for granted, and that may be too much of an assumption for some. But I don’t know how to rule out the possibility that there are. If this is possible, then the traditional answer that philosophy gives to the egoist loses its bite. The terms in which the egoist’s interest is formulat- ed appear at least minimally rational. He regards himself as “entitled” to proceed as he does, meaning that he believes he is justified. He has a sense of values in that he can discriminate actions in terms of whether they are worthwhile. Is that not “good” enough? Maybe not. In On What Matters, Derek Parfit argues that morality 2 requires judging actions in terms of whether they are right or wrong. In 2 Derek Parfit, On What Matters, vols. I & II. See the section entitled “Other Kinds of Wrongness” (164-174), especially where he claims that wrongness is the “indefinable property” that always gives us morally decisive reasons not to perform certain acts (173). Barnhart, Impermanence, Anattā, and the Stability of Egocentrism 596 fact, wrongness is the more basic notion. So, in order to be morally moti- vated one must want to avoid doing something because he judges it to be wrong, that the wrongful nature of an action is the primary concern. Thus, not only do egoistic actions not count as moral actions, neither do actions aimed at maximizing utility. For example, if an action is done solely to maximize pleasure, the decision is not made because the action is right or wrong. Similarly, if one is acting simply to please himself or look after his own interests, then one is acting on a basis other than the rightness or wrongfulness of the action. Parfit, therefore, regards egoism (166) and act utilitarianism (but not rule utilitarianism) (168) to be, at best, alternatives to morality. One might object to this claim on the grounds that the act utili- tarian at least can say that what counts as right or wrong in regard to one’s actions is just whether it maximizes benefit. Thus, following act utilitarian principles does commit one to morality insofar as one’s action matters in light of the potential to maximize benefit. Parfit disagrees: the concept of “wrongfulness” does no work in act utilitarianism. That is, wrongfulness does not add anything to what the utilitarian already con- siders. The same could be said of an egoist. He can, if he likes, define right and wrong in terms of whatever matters to him alone, but the con- 3 cept “wrong” adds no value for him in itself.